


Aroma

by Almost_Star_Struck



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Breaking Celibacy Vows, Celibacy, Cock Tease, Cultural Differences, M/M, Qunari Culture and Customs, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:52:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5636302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almost_Star_Struck/pseuds/Almost_Star_Struck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bull is forced to go through a month of celibacy, but Dorian won't let it stand. </p><p>Fucking cinnamon...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aroma

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Secret-Santa gift for Siujerkjai.
> 
> Original Prompt:  
> A Qunari-mandated month of celibacy.

This had been going on long enough that the Bull could now discern when Dorian wanted sex by scent alone.

Dorian would walk into the tavern and sit next to him at the usual corner. They’d play cards and tip back their drinks, laughing along with whatever stories were brought to the table, no matter who was telling them - Varric or Adaar or one of the Bull’s boys.

Then the mage would reach over and brush the inside of Bull’s wrist against his warm, but slightly twitching fingers. 

Dorian wore his cologne like a proper gentleman: just a small dip on his wrists, behind both ears, and in the hollow of his throat. The usual scent he preferred was a mild jasmine. Flowery, but not overwhelming or sweet; elegant in a way that would never really be out of fashion.

But on the nights where Dorian was randy, the cologne he wore bore traces of cinnamon and cloves. The hint of spice filled the Bull’s nose and it burned him in more ways than one. All the while, the sneaky little Vint would just sit next to him, discussing some sort of magical crap with Dalish as if nothing was different. Such a goddamn _tease_.

The worst part was that no one else seemed to notice the change, or at least they weren’t commenting on it.

_“Bull?”_

The Qunari blinked and shook his head, turning his attention to Adaar who raised an eyebrow. Without being prompted, she repeated her question, giving Bull a glare that told him she would not be repeating herself a third time, “Would you be alright with trekking out to Val Royeaux near the end of the month. I found a tailor for our Halamshiral uniforms.”

He nodded and grinned, “Course, Boss. Gotta do whatcha gotta do.” He finished his drink and licked his lips. “Plus you know how much I love making those snooty noble-types uncomfortable.”

Adaar nodded and then looked expectantly to Dorian. The mage heaved a heavy sigh, placing his chin in his hand with a resigned expression.  He looked at Adaar through his lashes, one eyebrow raised, and Bull stifled a smile. “Should I presume the Inquisitor desires the pleasure of my company for this excursion?”

“You know clothes better than anyone besides Vivienne, Dorian.”

“Then take her,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“But they’ll give us a better deal if they see I’ve got Team Give No Fucks behind me. Sera already said yes.” Adaar whined, her green eyes going soft, “ _Please?_ The ball is coming up soon and Josie will kill me if the preparations aren’t ready!”

Dorian rolled his eyes again, but the effect was damaged somewhat by the indulgent smile curling his lip.

“I suppose I would rather not see you scolded by your paramour.” He murmured. “And what sort of friend would I be if I let that happen?” He gave a pointed lift of his chin and Adaar beamed.

Damn, there was more of that spice. Bull inhaled without discretion and reached below the table, thumbing over the well-worn leather covering Dorian’s knee. The mage just shifted, pressing up into his palm as Bull murmured, “Boss, I think I’m gonna turn in. Early morning rituals and all that.”

Adaar blinked and then clasped her hands together, “Oh, is it almost the start of Solace? I thought we had a few more weeks left.” She pursed her lips, “Damn, I completely forgot.”

“I’m surprised you keep to the holidays at all being Vashoth, Boss,” Bull said with a laugh. “Let me know if you need help setting things up for morning meditation. You know I’ll cover you.”

Dorian nodded and feigned a yawn behind his ringed fingers. “Holiday preparations under the Qun? Sounds tedious.” He glanced to the moon through the window and added, “However it is approaching the witching hour and I too must retire.” Standing, he gave a small wave to their table, “I shall see you on the morrow.”

They both stood, Dorian leaving via the front exit while Bull trudged the stairs to his room. By the time he had opened the door, Dorian was already inside, having given the appearance of returning to his library loft. Bull wondered just how long Dorian was going to keep up the pretense that they weren’t fucking…well, whatever made the man happy.

“Eager, big guy?” Bull teased as Dorian removed his outer robe, laying it over the back of a chair. The mage smirked and tossed his hair, making a few stray bangs hang alluringly in front of his stormy eyes.

“Don’t presume,” He tugged off his tunic and bared his chest. Broad, lightly-muscled, a few scars and nicks here and there across lovely brown skin. “I hardly ran up here, you know.”

Bull snorted and removed his harness and then his brace. “Still made pretty damn good time.” He tugged off the boots and sidled over to Dorian, gently tilting the mage’s head back to expose the aristocratic column of his throat. Dorian’s eyes fluttered shut and he whimpered as the Bull stood behind him, nuzzling along his jawline. “You smell _delicious_.”

The mage smiled and he chuckled as Bull planted a few kisses under his chin, “That is rather the intention.” He reached back without turning around, stroking over Bull’s jaw. “So, how much longer do I have to wait before you ravish me?”

Bull smiled, “I’m gonna have you right now for as much as I can tonight.” He kissed down the mage’s throat, hands on Dorian’s hips. “Gotta make up for lost time.”

“Whatever do you mean? I was only here two days ago,” Dorian said, rolling his eyes and smirking. “Bull, I know I’m good, but I had no idea I made you so… _desperate.”_

“ _Issqun-antaam_.” Bull pulled back and stroked over Dorian’s shoulders. “It’s a month of cleansing,” he explained even as he blindly pulled open the buckles on the mage’s pants. “No drinking, no smoking, no sex.”

Dorian immediately pulled out of the Qunari’s grasp and turned to look at Bull as if he were mad. “A month?” he said. The Bull nodded plainly. “A _month!_ ” Dorian repeated, “Bull, that’s hardly fair to me now is it!?” He crossed his arms, “Just _when_ were you planning on telling me about this?”

“I didn’t really think about it. It’s just habit at this point.” Bull shrugged and sat up, meeting Dorian’s gaze. “Hey, if you need sex, you can go to others. I’m not going to get upset or hold it against you. You do what you gotta do, big guy,” Bull touched over the man’s knee, squeezing the bone. Dorian flinched and bit his lip, his eyes falling to the sheets.

“And if I…and if I didn’t want sex with anyone else?” he asked in a quiet voice. That made the Bull’s eye widen.

This thing that they had been doing…well, it had been going on for quite some time now. Long enough that they had a bit of a routine. Hell…when was the last time he had taken someone _besides_ the mage to bed?

“I can’t, Dorian. It’s something I gotta do. It’s a cleansing ritual. Sets the rest of the year on track.” He leaned in and kissed Dorian’s tense and wrinkled brow, his lips ultimately ending at the little beauty mark under his eye. “And it’s only a month.”

“Yes… well…a month is a rather long time,” Dorian muttered. “It would have been nice to get some forewarning is all.” His arms tightened around himself and the Bull could swear that he was pouting.

He sighed and gently tugged Dorian into his lap. “I’ll make it up to you when it’s all over.” He cupped his intact hand over the mage’s crotch and squeezed. Dorian groaned and those grey eyes fell shut, the mage leaning his weight back against him. “How’s that sound?”

“It’s not so easy…to earn my…my forgiveness,” Dorian tried to growl, but it trailed off into a gasp as Bull managed to completely undo his ties, freeing his smalls which were now entirely too tight.

He grinned and squeezed the mages thighs, “Challenge _accepted._ ”

Dorian laughed, the sound breathy and tinged with arousal. “Oh you’re going to regret saying that, Bull.”

* * *

 

Two days after the start of the month-long cleanse, Dorian came into the tavern. Cinnamon laced the air and the Bull gripped his water-filled tankard a little harder. He stayed at the table long into the night, getting water and ignoring the glares Cabot sent his way. He tipped heavily and left, heading up to his rooms…except they weren’t empty.

When Bull opened the door, a certain Vint mage was waiting, bare naked and wanting against the sheets. Dorian just smiled at him, stroking his own erection, and groaning as he arched against the bed. Bull closed the door behind him and swallowed hard.

“You’re drooling,” Dorian remarked, swiping his fingers through his own cum on his stomach. His chest still heaved slightly, his orgasm so fresh and mingling with the smell of salty sweat and that damn heated spice.

Bull just nodded, ignoring his own cock blatantly tenting the front of his pants. Dorian smiled knowingly and cleaned himself up. Once all his leathers were back on and his hair was as artfully tousled as the mage could get it, Dorian blew the Bull a kiss and practically sauntered out.

The next day was rinse and repeat but Dorian used a little more cologne this time around. Even Adaar began to notice after a while, commenting on the pleasant smell of Dorian’s clothes.

The mage only grinned and said, “Oh, just a little something I picked up when I had extra coin.  I find the effect rather… _delicious_ … Don’t you?”

Bull went through weeks of this. Dorian flouncing about smelling so delectably sweet and spicy, then coming to his room and rubbing it all over the sheets along with his sweat and cum. Bull went to bed rock hard every night, remembering Dorian’s low moans as he panted against his pillow.

“Bull, look at what you’re missing out on,” he’d say, plucking at one of his dark nipples, his opposite hand running down the flat of his stomach.

“Mmmm, it feels so good,” he’d drawl, locking eyes with the warrior as he played with his balls, squeezing and cupping them as he knelt, spreading his knees to give him the best possible view.

“Do you think of fucking me, Iron Bull?” he’d ask, long aristocratic fingers shoved deep into his own ass which was canted up on the edge of the bed, exposing the mage’s tight clenching hole.

Bull had survived some pretty awful torture, but this _definitely_ took first prize. By the time they left for Val Royeaux, he was pretty sure his balls were swollen to twice their size.

Being out of the castle didn’t deter Dorian’s teasing either.

The mage wore his finest clothes, a slinky navy blue number that was a far cry from his thick battle robes or the tight leathers he flaunted in Skyhold. Dark blue had the effect of making his brown skin looked so much more enticing, a clear stand out among the fish-belly pale Orlesians. And damn but didn’t they look like shit beside him?  It made Bull almost laugh to see it - Men and women turned their heads when he walked by, but Dorian never spared them a glance. He only tilted his head slightly to expose his long beautiful throat and allowed more of that damned cologne to waft over the Bull in an all too knowing manner.

_Bastard._

And at night when they retired to the room at the inn, Dorian would undress slowly, undoing each golden buckle and sliding the inky fabric from his shoulders lazily until it pooled at his bare feet. Dorian was always a lovely sight, clothed or nude, but when he put on a show like that, he was fucking stunning.

“If you wanna give me blue balls, it’s working pretty well,” Bull remarked as Dorian walked over to the fancy claw-foot tub placed behind a modesty shade. He pumped the water through the dwarven mechanism and traced a fire glyph against the surface. Steam drifted up to the ceiling as Dorian poured some of his favored oils into the tub, letting them foam. Bull couldn’t help but watch as the naked mage stepped in and slowly slid into the water.

With his neck arched back over the rim and his arms gripping either side, he looked like a prince waiting to be tended to. The Bull took up the task willingly, getting a wash cloth and rubbing it down Dorian’s back. At least he could touch him like this. If he had to go a whole month without physical contact, he’d be going nuts within a day.

Dorian smirked and leaned into the Bull’s strong hands. “This is your punishment for depriving me. You know I am nothing short of a demanding lover.”

He sighed. “I told you if you needed to, you could find someone to take care of that. I’m not gonna be selfish about this,” the Bull reminded. Dorian’s smirk dropped and he fiddled with the now limp curl of his moustache.

“Yes… _well_ …I’ve grown rather comfortable with our arrangement and it seems too much of a bother to change things.”

A lie. They both knew it. Bull just hummed and leaned over the mage’s shoulder to peck Dorian’s cheek. He pushed when he thought it would benefit him or his target. Pushing Dorian to talk about this seriously, to admit that there were _feelings_ involved?

“Bull, would you be upset if I was to take another lover?” Dorian asked, turning slightly to get a better look at the Qunari kneeling behind him.

Bull met Dorian’s gaze. “You asking if I’d be jealous or hurt?”

“Either,” Dorian said, looking up at him. “-if there’s a difference to be made.”

“Well with humans, yeah, there is. It’s all covered under the Qun as madness. In this case madness of the heart would be an accurate translation for _kadan-taar_.” He shrugged and kissed the mage’s slightly stubbled cheek again.

“Jealousy as insanity? Well, for some men, perhaps.” Dorian reached over and stroked up and down Bull’s arm, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I can say that if our situation was reversed that I would be rather hurt to see you go to someone else.”

Bull swallowed hard, but kept his expression sardonic. “ _Aw_ , that’s sweet big guy,” he said as he mussed Dorian’s dark hair. Dorian flushed and tried to fix his coif, but it was pretty well ruined. He glared at Bull and sighed, the anger dissipating to fondness. It made the Bull feel warm, warmer than he had been sitting next to the hot bath.

Leaning in close, Bull inhaled, catching the last traces of cinnamon. “I might be a little hurt, but it’s selfish to keep you tied for my own sake. You’re a free man, Dorian.”

“A free man?” Dorian said with a snort. “I suppose. My choices are my own down in the abysmal South.” He smiled to himself and turned over in the water, standing on his knees to look at Bull. His grey eyes pinned the giant Qunari who could scarcely draw breath as Dorian murmured, “And I’ve been foolish enough to choose a brute like you.”

Dorian grabbed his horns before he could react to the words and pulled him into a deep kiss. For a moment, the Bull forgot himself and wound his hands around Dorian’s hips. His skin was warm and wet and so beautifully smooth. Steady and _strong_ under his fingers.

The mage moaned softly and licked into his mouth which Bull readily surrendered to. Koslun’s _balls_ , he burned with want for this mage. Three weeks of teasing and looks and goddamn _cinnamon_. Bull had spent years on Seheron, almost a decade believing that the most powerful compulsion would be _asala-taar_ …and here he was, succumbing after just a month to the whims of his mad heart.

“Bull,” Dorian panted, pulling away slightly. He was hard, his erection poking out from the surface of the frothy water. Fuck, he just wanted to take that prick into his mouth and suck until Dorian was _writhing_. “We should stop. Your… _antaam_ -.”

Breaking away, Bull just stared down at the other man for a moment before shrugging, “Fuck it.” He grabbed Dorian and lifted him up out of the tub, ignoring the way water splashed against the fancy imported rug. Dorian squawked as Bull shoved the bath shade out of the way and moved them to the bed, dropping him against the clean sheets.

Dorian recovered quickly, staring up at him with such intense desire and affection that it made Bull groan. Water sluiced down his bare chest as he murmured, “ _Amatus_ , please…”

He wasn’t so clouded that he was unable to remember his Tevene. _Beloved_ , like the Iron Bull was something small and precious in Dorian’s big heart. It made him swallow hard and unbuckle his pants, letting them fall before approaching the bed, holding himself up over the mage. Dorian smiled fondly, his hands resting along his broad shoulders like that spot was meant for him. His fingers were so warm and gentle, even as they crackled with electricity, sending sparks up the Bull’s spine.

_If it’s a hostile target, you give them what they **want.** But when it’s someone you care about, you give them what they **need.**_

“What do you need, Dorian?” he asked in a breathy voice, one big hand stroking the side of Dorian’s face. The mage sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into the touch as much as he could, even turning his head to kiss Bull’s palm.

“I need you,” he whispered, his fingers tightening around the Qunari’s shoulders, digging deep like little anchors. Shuddering, the Bull nodded and kissed him, covering Dorian’s body with his own.

The next morning, Dorian left his cologne untouched on the mantle.


End file.
